


Hell is Empty

by Youngbloodrage



Series: Levels [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ficlet, Implied Relationships, M/M, the Devil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:53:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youngbloodrage/pseuds/Youngbloodrage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three times Steve Rogers meets the Devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell is Empty

The first time Steve Rogers saw the devil he was thousands of miles from home. A man loomed over fires of his own creations, waiting for the world to burn. He tore the flesh off his face like it was nothing more than a mask. The devil stood there, thinking he was god.  


It didn’t take long for him to drag himself to his end. His desire for power was his downfall.  


The second time Steve Rogers saw the devil only the East River kept him from the place he grew up decades ago.  


The streets were on fire. Oh, Hell was always burning. Steve Rogers, sweat falling down his forehead, shivered. Call it muscle memory, call it regret, but he still felt like he was frozen. His lips were no longer blue but his veins had not yet defrosted, his heart was still back in 1943, frozen solid.  


The devil fell from the sky, looking unearthly, like a machination coming directly from Satan’s workshop. It was that day Steve Rogers learned that hell resided in the sky.  
He shaded his eyes and let the devil fall. It didn’t make him feel any better.  


The third time Steve Rogers saw the devil he had his best friend’s eyes. They were the color of the first frost over Brooklyn, so familiar, so distant.  
This time, Home was mere feet away.  


This time, unlike all others, Steve Rogers wasn’t afraid the devil was going to hurt him. Steve was afraid he would hurt him.  
And this time, Steve Rogers stopped in his tracks and realized. Everything he knew about Hell was wrong.  


Because when Lucifer fell from grace, he didn’t fall on his own accord. His fingers slipped from train tracks on a sub-zero standstill.  


Because Satan wasn’t chaos. He stood straight, hands at the ready. He was trained well; there was no doubt of what his next move would be. The Devil was a soldier.  


And The Devil, he wasn’t monstrous, he wasn’t hateful. He had a gentle laugh and a softer touch. And when the Devil kissed Steve, all those years ago, he was warm and he was loving.  


And Hell, as Steve Rogers learned that day, wasn’t burning, wasn’t fire. Hell was freezing. Hell was waking up seventy years after you fell up sleep, encased in ice. Hell was not eternal fervor. Hell was Winter.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah sorry, not very good.


End file.
